


seasons change

by starcrescent



Category: Day6 (Band), Stray Kids (Band), TWICE (Band)
Genre: M/M, Multi, a chuseok/thanksgiving fic, chan grows as a dad, changsungin are their kids, dad!chan, dad!woojin, hyunjin's a sweet boy, i love day6, literally a whole jype family, twice & day6 & yugyeom are all minor characters, with a nose ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 14:36:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16725279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starcrescent/pseuds/starcrescent
Summary: chan has been looking forward to chuseok since the second his oldest son left for university. he'd expected a lovely day with his whole family together, but then changbin shows up with a boyfriend chan didn't even know existedor: it's changbin's first time back home from university and he brings hyunjin home with him





	seasons change

**Author's Note:**

> happy thanksgiving! it's a little late, but i managed to keep it within a week of both chuseok and thanksgiving woohoo. i'm so endlessly thankful for all the support i've been receiving on my last couple works, it really means the world to me.
> 
> also, i swear i have fics for other skz ships besides changjin in the works. idk if you could tell but i adore minsung too and will *hopefully* have something out for them in a timely manner. thankfully, this one includes some Super Dads woochan. n i'm a big sucker for worried dad!chan, so, here is this.

“How’s the pie coming, honey?”

Chan smiles as a pair of arms wrap around his waist and a sharp, familiar chin rests on his shoulder. His fingers work nimbly at the pie crust, weaving and shaping and pinching. “Perfectly,” he says. “It’s going to be delicious.”

Woojin grins into the crook of his neck. “Bin-ah’s going to love it,” he promises, and Chan laughs.

“I know he will.”

“He’s going to be here soon.” The older moves his head so he can press a kiss into the swell of his husband’s cheek.

Chan checks the clock on the microwave. Changbin should be here within the hour, all the way from university in Seoul. Chan’s been counting down the minutes until today from the second Changbin left in July―he can’t wait to have his oldest son back in the nest, even if it’s just for the weekend.

“Behind you!” Jihyo shouts, maneuvering behind the couple with a large pot of kimchi held high over her head. “Woojin, out of the kitchen! Blood only!”

“Yeah, Dad,” Jeongin pipes up from where he’s frying meatballs. Beside him, Jisung snorts. “Blood only.”

Woojin extracts his arms and chin. “Ungrateful brats,” he mutters, much to his youngest children’s delight. “This is _Chuseok_ , you wild rats!” They just laugh harder, and this time Woojin lands a kiss on Chan’s lips before he vacates the kitchen.

Holiday meals are left entirely to exclusively Bang blood relations. Cooking and baking skills have been passed down unfailingly from generation to generation in Chan’s family, as has the talent for choosing partners who couldn’t work a rice cooker if they tried. Chan’s cousin Jihyo makes the best kimchi in the nation but her husband isn’t allowed within fifteen feet of the stove. His other cousin Nayeon boasts about her world-famous bean pancakes but her long-time girlfriend Sana burned herself on six separate occasions attempting to work the _microwave_. His other cousins Jeongyeon and Yugyeom have unmatched skills in making rice cakes and stir-fried noodles. Yugyeom’s daughter Dahyun and Jihyo’s daughter Chaeyoung make some of the best radish soup Chan’s ever tasted, and they’re only sixteen years old. Chan’s younger sons can fry legitimately anything, and his oldest son can bake the sweetest apple pie.

The only exception to the trend is Jae, Chan’s cousin who lives in America. He’s prohibited from touching anything that could even be used to cook. His husband Brian, on the other hand, is more than welcome into the kitchen every time they fly in from Los Angeles.

“Hey, songpyeon are in!” Jeongyeon announces as she turns the steamer to medium-high.

“The soup’s almost done,” Dahyun chimes in from the stove, where Chaeyoung’s tasting a spoonful. Yugyeom kisses the tops of their heads as he passes behind her with a small bowl of oil and seasoning. Nayeon’s still working at the stove, and Brian is preparing zucchini slices and fish fillets for Jisung and Jeongin to fry.

“Hurry up, uncle,” the youngest sighs as he watches Brian’s expert chopping with bored eyes. Chan chuckles as Brian just rolls his eyes.

The doorbell rings just then, and Sana, who’s lounging around with the cook-less men and Mina (Jihyo’s adopted daughter) in the living room, gets up to open it.

“Ah, hello!” Chan hears her exclaim down the hall. “Come in, come in!” To the rest of the house, she calls, “More family’s here!”

Wonpil and Dowoon wipe their boots on the doormat and their son Seungmin follows suit. Dowoon’s brother Sungjin floods in after them, shouting greetings into the house with his daughter Tzuyu close behind. Sometimes it strikes Chan like lightning, how crazy life is. Thirty years ago he and his cousins were kids spending the holidays together with their menagerie of aunts and uncles, and now they’re all middle-aged and have their own children and spouses woven into their family traditions. They used to be so young and carefree and now they’re far more experienced and wise, responsible for teenagers and houses and other things they’d never expected way back then. Everything’s different, yet the feeling of family and holidays is the same.

“Where can I help?” Sungjin booms, breaching the kitchen as slides off his coat.

“Uncle Sungjin!” Jeongin cheers. “Help Uncle Brian with the vegetables, he’s too slow!”

Sungjin grins and balls his nephews up in two strong sidehugs. They groan in unison. Dahyun and Chaeyoung are hit next, and Dahyun’s the only one in the whole family strong enough to withstand a Sungjin hug. After a full round of sloppy kisses and hugs, Brian has help with the vegetables (though he doesn’t really need it).

“Happy Chuseok, Uncle Chan,” Seungmin and Tzuyu say, and Chan hugs them both with wrists twisted back so he doesn’t get flour on their shirts.

“Happy Chuseok,” Chan smiles. “Will you help Aunt Jihyo with the kimchi?”

They stop by to tease and elbow Jisung and Jeongin, who return the favor eagerly. Sometimes Chan wishes they all lived closer so the children could be together more often, but he knows it’s the rarity of these occasions that makes them so special.

“When’s Binbin hyung getting here?” Jeongin asks.

“Any minute now!” Woojin calls from the living room.

Chan slides the apple pie into the oven just as the front doorbell rings again. Jisung and Jeongin make excited eye contact before they’re shoving each other to get to the door first. “Changb _iiiiiiiiin_!” Jisung’s screaming echoes down the hallway, accompanied by Jeongin’s shrill shrieking. His sons’ antics spread a smile over Chan’s face but he’s beyond excited too. It feels like hundreds of years have passed since he’s seen his eldest son’s face. Heard his laugh, felt the warmth of his smile. That’s not true, of course―Changbin’s facetimed home so many times in the last four months Jeongin complained that he thought his brother was going to be _gone_.

But no matter how many times Chan sees his boy on the phone or laptop screen, it will never compare to seeing him right in front of him.

“It’s Changbinnie-hyung!” Jisung shouts as he drags his older brother in by the hand.

“And he’s got a boy!” Jeongin adds.

There’s no time for that last statement to register in Chan’s mind because suddenly his eyes are full of his son. Changbin, with the same black hair and kind eyes and slow smile that Chan has raised for nineteen years. Changbin, who was the first little person Chan loved more than anything else in the world. Changbin, who will always be a little boy in Chan’s eyes no matter what. Overwhelmed tears spring to his eyes―his son is finally back home.

“Hi, Dad,” Changbin says, and Chan doesn’t wait another moment before rushing to engulf his son in a hug.

“Bin-ah,” Chan nearly cries. He doesn’t let go until Woojin wraps himself around the both of them and stifles them with his strong arms.

He manages to pull back far enough to look his son up and down. Nothing looks starkly different―how could it, in just four months?―but there’s a new air about him. Some kind of knowledgeable, independent aura that bursts from his body when he smiles with his whole face. He’s not the same anymore, Chan can sense it. University―Seoul―has changed him.

“Dad―this is…” Changbin shuffles around all the family that has crowded to the edge of the kitchen. “This is Hyunjin.”

 _And he’s got a boy!_ Chan remembers. This… Hyunjin, presumably, is tall, with dark tousled hair. He’s wildly attractive, to Chan’s horror, and a (probably fake) diamond stud glints on his nose. That courtesy extends to several holes in both his ears―there’s even a _bar_ through the top of his left one―and Chan feels his heart begin to pound. Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no.

“Nice to meet you,” Hyunjin says with a bow, and oh no nonono. Little dimples pop out in his cheeks, and Chan knows exactly where this is headed.

“Nice to meet you too,” Woojin says when Chan just stands there blankly.

“Well who is he?” Jae speaks up from where he’s squished in the back of the horde.

Changbin meets Hyunjin’s eyes and Chan knows, he _knows_ , what’s coming next. He was a teenager too, once upon a time. “Hyunjin’s my boyfriend.”

And just like that, everything erupts into chaos. Changbin and Hyunjin are swept into the tidal waves of their massive family and Chan is left in the hallway, his head spinning with a hurricane of thoughts he can’t calm down.

 

―

 

“Honey,” comes Woojin’s voice from the house. Chan just beats the grease out of the pan a little harder, watches how the drops fling onto the dirt. His breath puffs out in front of him, but he can’t bring himself to worry about the cold. “Honey, you need to come back inside.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Chan,” Woojin sighs. He leaves the side of the house to join his husband on the edge of the driveway. “Come on, just―”

“We don’t even know this Hyunjin boy,” Chan cuts him off. He inhales shakily. “What if he, like, maims squirrels in his spare time?”

Woojin makes a face. “What? That doesn’t even make sense.”

“He has so many earrings. Why does he have so many earrings?”

“You had earrings back in uni, Chan. You actually had them until we adopted Changbin.”

“He’s got a _nose ring_.”

“So? That doesn’t mean he’s a bad kid. I’ve talked to him, he’s really sweet.”

Chan huffs and bangs the pan loudly for emphasis. “Is he good enough for Changbin-ah, though? Changbin’s… he needs to be protected, you know. We’ve always protected him. Remember on our first trip back to Damyang with him, when he tried to pet a snake in my mom’s yard because he thought it was cute? We saw him just in time and managed to save him from being bitten. How am I supposed to protect him from a boy I didn’t even see coming?”

“You might not _need_ to protect him, Chan. This is different than a snake in the grass, and Changbin’s not that little anymore. Hyunjin really does seem like a good kid, if you’d give him a chance―”

“Don’t try to make me like him. Changbin didn’t even tell us he was coming.”

Woojin sighs, that all-knowing sigh that makes Chan realize he’s let slip something he shouldn’t have. “Is that what this is really about?”

“What?”

“Changbin didn’t tell you he was bringing his boyfriend home?”

Finally, the younger man gives up and lets the pan fall against his leg. “He didn’t even tell us he _had_ a boyfriend. Why didn’t… why didn’t he trust us with that? He knows we wouldn’t be weird about it― _we’re_ gay, for Christ’s sake.”

“We’re also parents,” Woojin points out. “Changbin’s never had a boyfriend before, maybe he didn’t know how to tell us.”

“That’s the other thing,” Chan says in a small voice. “He’s never had a boyfriend before. This is just out of nowhere―he’s never even shown _interest_ in boys before, Woojin, or girls! How do we know Hyunjin’s treating our baby right, or that Changbin knows what he’s doing?”

Woojin leans forward to kiss his husband’s forehead. When he falls back, he gives Chan a small smile. “You’ll never have answers to any of these questions unless you ask him, Channie. He’s our son, and you two have always been especially close. I really don’t think he’s trying to hide anything from you. And he knows you’re always going to protect him no matter what.”

Chan breathes in deep, lets it go. Everything is going to be fine. “Yeah, you’re right,” he says.

“I know,” Woojin grins, and Chan scoffs as he smacks his butt with the back of the pan. “Now get back inside, it’s not Chuseok without you micromanaging everything.”

“I do not _micromanage_!”

His husband laughs. “Just come on.”

 

―

 

As it turns out, finding time to talk to Changbin is ridiculously difficult. The house is bursting at the seams with twenty-plus people all eager to learn how Changbin’s liking university and who this new Hyunjin is even while they work. Chan can’t steal away his son’s attention when Jae’s demanding it from the living room and Jihyo wants to know all about Hyunjin’s major and interests and whether or not he likes music. Changbin and his… his _boyfriend_ are seated beside each other at the kitchen table, and Chan eyes them as he works at the second pie. It’s pumpkin, not Changbin’s favorite, but he’s got to feed the rest of the family too.

They look… like they fit together. Acknowledging this is painful, but it’s true. Changbin seems far happier and more open than he had back in high school. His smile shines like the sun, he sits a little straighter in the chair. Even as he talks to his Uncle Jae, his cheery mood never fails. Next to him, Hyunjin is now engaged in an animated conversation with Nayeon about the best holiday movies. They must think they’re being discreet, but Chan can see fingers interlaced under the table, hands resting on Hyunjin’s knee and Changbin squeezing the other’s every now and then.

Clearly, they’ve been dating for a while. They’ve been dating long enough to feel this comfortable together, for Changbin to bring Hyunjin home for Chuseok out of the blue. There is no precedent that Chan can lean back on―Changbin has never dated before. _None_ of Chan’s children have ever dated before. Nothing serious, anyway. In primary school Jisung found himself with a girlfriend because of a Valentine’s card, and when Jeongin was six years old he held hands with a girl during recess.

But Changbin―Chan’s precious, sweet baby Changbin―has never even _looked_ at another person, as far as he knows. Then just suddenly he shows up with a boyfriend who calls him Binnie under his breath and smiles at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

Chan’s suspicious. Woojin’s comforting words are fading away as the seconds tick by, leaving only the unsettling doubt that Hyunjin is not good. Maybe not _bad_ , necessarily, but there’s something about him that keeps Chan on edge. The worst is the way he melts so naturally into the family― _that_ really gets on Chan’s nerves.

The kid’s already received a strong clap on the back from Sungjin. Jeongin abandoned his post to listen to one of Hyunjin’s stories within the first ten minutes of their arrival, and Sana whisked him back to the living room so everyone in there could hear. Mina and Chaeyoung are already snickering about how cute he is and Jihyo’s pinched his cheeks at least twice. They don’t even _know_ him, and yet. They all love him.

“Hey,” Jeongyeon says, sidling up on Chan’s right. “You okay?”

“What?” He tears his eyes away from Hyunjin, who’s sitting on the couch between Sana and Jae.

“Are you alright? You seem a little… worked up.”

She gestures towards Chan’s hands, which are twisting furiously into the rim of the pie crust. Oh. He pauses and retracts his hands.

“I’m okay,” he says. “I’m fine.”

“Hyunjin seems very nice,” she offers, because she always knows what’s going on in her younger cousin’s head. Ever since they were little kids, she’s been able to read his mind. Thankfully the din of the kitchen and the raucous laughter from the living room hide her words. “Don’t overthink it.”

And with that she returns to the rice cooker, leaving Chan to ponder what she means until Changbin approaches.

“Hey, Dad,” he smiles. Chan can’t help but smile reflexively in return, even if it’s a little strained.

“Hi, Bin-ah.”

“Can I help with anything?”

Suddenly it’s like everything is back to normal. Changbin’s been here the whole time and still, he’s the only one with the thoughtfulness to actually ask if Chan needs help. Somewhere else Woojin and their two younger sons rough around, but Changbin’s making sure Chan’s alright. He can always tell when his father’s down or needs a little extra love and help. He’s wise beyond his years, Chan’s known this since they’d first adopted him. And in their crazy house of five, it’s always been Chan and Changbin against the rest of them.

“Yeah,” Chan smiles. “Could you help get the―”

The front door screeches open and a “Changbinnie!” echoes into the kitchen from the hallway. Both father and son turn to see Lee Minho standing there with arms spread wide and Felix grinning at his side. Minho and Changbin were best friends all throughout high school and while Changbin left for Seoul, Minho stayed in Daegu for university. Felix is Minho’s younger cousin and one of Jisung’s best friends―both of those boys are basically family by now and Chan’s honestly surprised it took them this long to show up.

But then Minho shouts, “Let me see the boy toy!” and Changbin’s hauled away before Chan can even move to protest.

Once the food is spread out, Chan takes his seat at one end of the table and Woojin sits at the other. All the distance between them feels like an ocean, especially right now. He saved a seat beside him for Changbin―Changbin has always sat at his right-hand side, ever since he was little. But now he has to lean halfway into Wonpil’s plate to see his son in the middle of the table, Hyunjin on one side and Dahyun on the other. Chan tries to pretend like it doesn’t matter to him, but he’s never been good at fooling himself.

Everyone digs in with mouths eating and talking and hands waving. Chan eats two rice cakes and half a fried shrimp before he feels sick to his stomach. He distracts himself with conversation, chatting with Wonpil and Seungmin about high school and university plans. Wonpil seems so unbothered with the fact that his only son is going away within a year. _God,_ Chan wishes he could be like that.

But one glance down at his sons fawning over some boy he’s never even seen before kills the thought before it can take shape. He’ll always care about his children―more than he should, maybe, but can he really be blamed for that?

 

―

 

Chan can’t bring himself to look over at Changbin when he approaches, so he keeps his eyes on the soapy water in front of him. “Hey, Dad,” his son says as he grabs a towel and begins drying the dishes. “I’m really glad to be home. I missed you.”

“I know,” Chan replies. He does know that.

“And I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you about him.”

Chan rinses off a plate.

“I just… I wasn’t sure how to tell you about him. But I really wanted you to meet him, and I know he’s not part of the family yet―”

Chan bristles. Yet. _Yet._ His son’s only been gone _four months_ and he thinks he’s already adding someone to the family?

Changbin must sense his dad’s guard going up, because he immediately amends, “I don’t mean it like that. I mean, I do, but I don’t, I mean―”

“It’s fine, Changbin-ah,” Chan says and it comes out far colder than he’d intended.

“Dad,” the teenager tries again. “I really like him. And I just want you to like him too.”

Chan snaps. “I don’t even know the kid. How am I supposed to like him if I’ve never even heard his name before?”

“Dad, please―”

“This is _Chuseok_ , Changbin. Family only. I was looking forward to seeing _you_. I was expecting _you_ to come home.”

“I did come home, Dad.”

“This is―this holiday is about _family_ , you know that. He’s not part of ours.”

Changbin’s silent. Then there’s a small, “I’m sorry,” and Chan’s left alone at the sink.

 

―

 

He’s sitting out in the porch when Hyunjin finds him. Everyone else is inside, loud and boisterous and enjoying themselves. Chan just needed some time outside to clear his head. He has his own problems and he’s not going to let them bring down the holiday spirit for everyone else.

“Ahjussi?”

Chan sighs and his breath leaves his mouth in small clouds. Hyunjin comes up beside him, shoves his hands deeper into his hoodie pocket.

“I’m Hwang Hyunjin,” he says. “I didn’t get a chance to officially introduce myself.”

His nose ring glints in Chan’s periphery.

“I know I came out of nowhere, but please don’t blame Changbin.” He inhales slow, a mouthful of crisp November air. “I… my family isn’t so great. Changbin only invited me because he knew I didn’t have anywhere to go for the holidays.”

That sounds like Changbin, so much so that Chan sighs again. “My son has a good heart.”

“I know,” is Hyunjin’s quick reply. “I really do. I told him I didn’t want to intrude, but he insisted that his family would love me. I―I fell for it, I guess. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. But please, he feels terrible, please don’t blame him for this.”

Chan’s heart breaks. He never meant to make his son feel terrible, and just because he wasn’t prepared to handle change doesn’t mean he should ruin Changbin’s first Chuseok back home. Hyunjin obviously cares about Changbin, and that can be enough for him. Besides, what would’ve happened if everyone reacted to Sana the same way he’d reacted to Hyunjin? It’s not the same situation, of course, but the principle remains. Chan’s arms have always been open to new people. It keeps the family interesting and lively.

“I’ll talk to him,” he promises. Hyunjin nods and turns to leave, but Chan speaks up again before he can stop himself. “When did you two meet?”

Hyunjin pauses. “Orientation week.”

That’s what Chan thought―they’ve known each other for almost the entire four months.

“I thought he was gorgeous from the first moment I saw him,” the teenager continues even though Chan didn’t ask him to. “Changbin didn’t see me at all, though. Not until we shared a class―I’m an economics major, but I’m minoring in creative writing. We have an intro to poetry writing course together and it took like two class periods for me to fall in love with the way he thinks.”

He clears his throat. “I’ve always been told I was pretty, and so I’ve dated many people just because I could. But I knew from the first moment that Changbin was special. I could never work up the courage to actually talk to him because I thought he was too good for me. He was the one who manned up and asked me out.”

The memory of it must be funny, because Hyunjin chuckles. “When Changbin looks at me, it’s like he sees straight through my skin. He doesn’t think I’m shallow or fake or that I’ve gotten everything easy because I’m conventionally handsome, or whatever. I, well, I really like your son. And more than anything else, I just want him to be happy. He talks about his parents and his brothers constantly, and to be honest I couldn’t wait to meet you all. He talks about you the most, and he just… he just wants your approval.”

Chan doesn’t realize he’s crying until he blinks and his vision blurs. He knows how strong and kind and gentle Changbin is under his dark exterior, and Hyunjin, this stranger, figured that out too with just one look.

“I think he didn’t tell you because he was worried you’d be disappointed he was wasting his time on me. He cares so much about the feelings of people he loves, and I knew it tore him up keeping it from you. I know he’s strong enough to take care of himself, but I’m always going to be there for him too. He’s one of the best people I’ve ever met and I won’t let anything hurt him.”

“I know you won’t,” Chan says. He feels almost stupid for how quickly he judged Hyunjin. Earrings and nose studs and traditionally attractive features don’t make someone untrustworthy. Hyunjin’s obviously not a snake in the grass, and _clearly_ he does not maim squirrels in his spare time. Changbin’s not in high school anymore, he’s not surrounded by immature high school kids. He’s in university, a place where some of the best people are―Chan met Woojin there, actually.

And Hyunjin… Chan thinks he might be one of those people too.

 

―

 

“Changbin-ah?”

The leftover food has been packed into the fridge and dishes all cleaned and put away. Now the whole family is trickling into the living room for games and movies. Changbin pauses under the arch and Hyunjin gives his hand a squeeze before disappearing into the crowd of Kims and Lees and Parks.

“Yeah Dad?”

Chan pulls the apple pie from the oven where it’d been warming. When he places it on the table, the hesitation on his son’s face softens into a smile.

“An apple pie?”

“What, you thought we could have Chuseok without grandma’s apple pie?”

Chan’s mother came from Australia, and one of the first skills she ever gifted to Chan was her apple pie recipe. In his overbearingly Korean family, he grew up baking pies with her in the back of the kitchen. He raised his first son the same way. Pies―apple pies specifically, since they’re Changbin’s favorites―have always been one of their strongest bonds. Something they share just between the two of them.

This time when Changbin smiles, Chan knows he’s forgiven. But he can’t leave things like this.

“Changbin,” he says as he begins cutting the pie. “I love you unconditionally. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you. Hyunjin talked to me, and I do like him. I just wasn’t ready for this much change so suddenly. You’re the most important thing in my whole life along with your brothers, and I never want you to feel like I don’t trust you or support you. Okay?”

Changbin accepts the piece of pie Chan offers him. “I know you trust me, Dad. I just want you to trust Hyunjin too.”

“Baby steps,” Chan warns. His son nods in understanding. “It was very nice of you to invite Hyunjin over because he didn’t have his own family to visit. And obviously _our_ family is smitten with him. As long as he treats you right, he’s always welcome here.”

“Thank you,” Changbin smiles before shoveling a big forkful of pie into his mouth.

“Of course.” Chan gestures down at the pie. “How is it?”

Changbin smacks his lips. “Delicious, as always. Your pies are always the best.”

“Mm, yours might be better than mine by now.”

A sharp laugh from the living room cuts through the gentle air of the kitchen. It undoubtedly belongs to Jisung. “Hey, I’ve got a question,” Changbin declares, and Chan knows they’re okay again.

“Shoot,” he says, then eats another piece of pie.

“Since when has Jisung liked Minho?”

Chan snorts at that. “Since he woke up and realized Minho’s not actually as ugly as he previously thought. Jeongin-ah told me he has to listen to Jisung rant about Minho at least three times a week.”

“Jeongin’s still your informant?” Changbin snickers.

“Until the day I die,” Chan confirms, and his son laughs.

“It’s nice to know that things haven’t totally changed while I’ve been gone.”

“Yeah,” Chan agrees as he finishes off his slice. “Yeah, we’ll always be here for you to come back to.”

Changbin smiles and collects both his and his dad’s plates. On the way to the sink, he kisses the top of his dad’s head. “I know,” he says. Chan sighs long and deep as he looks at his son’s back. Seasons come and go, people grow inside and out, and things change, that’s just the way life goes. But no matter what, Chan, Woojin, Jisung and Jeongin―they will always be Changbin's home, and that will remain true until the end of time.

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by a publix commercial on tv that made me tear up lmaooo
> 
> also, i'm sorry i can't just write nice things? maybe come christmas i can post an exclusively fluffy fic...
> 
> if you'd like, please come scream at me about stray kids! [my tumblr](https://chanyeonot.tumblr.com/) // [my twitter](https://twitter.com/bangchansyeezys) (pls hmu!)
> 
> thank you for reading! ♡


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